fool’s gold

the delivery of glazed promises
in somber pink, clear-top boxes
confirmed your devotion to
relieving all those years
of hunger pains that
i thought you could heal.

the colorful assortments of sweets
you’ve given me lately
form itchy, red love mounds
on my skin and ease those
cravings for tenderness.

self-proclaimed nourishment
beats deprivation–
a self-coerced affirmation.